Love and loss

My heart is heavy. A year ago today, I lost one of my dearest friends, Suellen. To say that I think about her often would be a gross understatement. She was the person I went to in times of joy-- to share my laughter-- and also in times of distress-- because I knew she would never fail to console me with that practical charm she always showed. Losing her will always affect me. But having had her in my life affects me even more. Please take a minute to look at Sempringham's blog (on my friends blogs list to the left). Bob posted some beautiful pictures of her.

One year later, I'm coping with another impending loss. My 13-year-old cat Sheila was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. All we can do is provide her with palliative care and cherish her in her remaining days. Although she is lethargic and not herself, she is not in pain but we know that when the decline happens, we'll have to do the merciful thing and let her go. It's tearing me apart.

I've cried a lot of tears over the last little while and I'm sure I'll shed some more before it's over. Throughout it all, though, I'm very grateful for my husband John, who is a pillar of strength and solace. He's the "cat whisperer" and I know that this is as difficult for him-- probably even more so-- than it is for me. Still, his is the shoulder that comforts me and the gentle, steady presence who gives me so much love. I'm also blessed with two glorious sisters, Teresa and Kimmy, who know me so well and who nurture me without hesitation. I appreciate so much that they have taken time out of their busy holiday schedules to make sure I get out of the house and smile a bit. Monica and Dean, too, dear friends who have recently endured or are in the process of enduring the same pet challenge that I am, have been unfailingly kind. Thanks to Vince for his heartfelt words, Yvette for listening and Mary for the amazing hugs. All of those around me have shown incredible compassion-- too many to name individually-- and I'm lucky to have them all.

And Suellen. I know she is here with me right now. She's with me every time I flick open my Kindle. Or eat a delicious baked good. Or carefully pick baby corn out of my salad. I can see that knowing smile clearly and it fills me with warmth.

Great love means great sadness. But a life without love would be even more sad. I know that the overwhelming grief that I'm feeling right now will fade in time. And I also know that the love will not. God bless.